


Please?

by deathtouchwlw (deathtouch)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Established Relationship, F/F, Humiliation, Office Sex, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 09:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17937035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathtouch/pseuds/deathtouchwlw
Summary: Femfeb 2019 | ShortficAngela has to go to the bathroom but Moira won’t let her.





	Please?

**Author's Note:**

> can yall believe i haven't written mercy/moira yet? what have i been doing all this time...??  
> unbeta'd! all mistakes are my own.

The lab, usually silent, was brimming over with sound. Most obvious was the rhythmic _tap-tap-tapp_ ing of Angela’s pen on the pages of her data log. She wasn’t getting any writing done, but she certainly was keeping a steady beat. It was accompanied by the squeak of her office chair, nuts and bolts creaking in time as she bounced her leg anxiously. Almost lost in the shuffle were the soft sounds of Angela shifting in her seat, moving her weight from hip to hip… as if that would help.   
  
She kept glancing up, sending forlorn looks down to Moira who was sitting at the opposite end of the lab bench. Moira resolutely ignored her, focusing instead on a fascinating article she was reading. It paralleled some of her own research. She was always looking for move evidence to back up her claims, seeing as so few people were as capable as she was at replicating her experiments.   
  
“Moira-“ Angela began.   
  
Moira looked up, raising an eyebrow.   
  
Angela seemed to hesitate before shaking her head in dismissal. She glanced back down at the pages in front of her.  She went on bouncing her leg, tapping her pen, shifting from side to side. She was growing more and more desperate by the minute. She wouldn’t be able to last much longer.   
  
All at once, Angela stood up. She reached over her lab bench to pluck a half-filled Erlenmeyer flask from the black table top. Carting it quite obviously in front of her, she started off, intending to brush past Moira on her way somewhere. Perhaps to deliver that flask someplace, or perhaps to make a break for the bathroom.   
  
“Ah, ah.” Moira caught Angela by the arm. “Just where do you think you’re going?”   
  
Angela must have known her little ruse wouldn’t work, and yet she still seemed disappointed. “To return this to the refrigerator to keep the sample chilled,” She lied, gesturing with the flask.   
  
Sure. It had only been sitting out all afternoon. It just had to go back in the refrigerator now, though. There was no way it could wait any longer.   
  
“Allow me,” Moira offered generously. She seized the sample of liquid from Angela’s grasp and held it up, giving it a playful slosh. Angela barely managed to mask the whimper in the back of her throat. “Go sit down, my darling. Finish your lab work.”   
  
As dejected as a dog with its tail between its legs, Angela returned to her chair. She didn’t sit down, though. She leaned back against the countertop and crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t tapping her foot any longer, but the leather of her shoe was shifting, toes obviously wriggling impatiently underneath.   
  
Moira wasn’t entirely sure that she could trust Angela to stay put but she stepped away to deliver the flask to the refrigerator as promised anyway. She nestled it on the third shelf among the other samples. She returned to the lab desk to find Angela exactly where she’d left her, and Moira would be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised.  
  
“Moira,” Angela said again, voice achingly vulnerable this time.   
  
Moira loved it when Angela sounded like that. So exposed, so open. It made something within her go soft, feelings of tenderness flowering in her chest. She loved that she was the one who could make Angela sound like that. It was both a privilege and a power.   
  
“What is it, my darling?” Moira asked her.   
  
Angela seemed to waver. She bit at her bottom lip, the soft pink of it disappearing between her teeth. She looked down at her feet, golden blonde fringe falling to hide her face. “Please, can I go to the bathroom?” She asked.  
  
Ah, there it was. All that power Moira felt? This was where it came into play. She was the one who got to decide. Angela was all hers; where she went, what she did, when and how she did it. Even the most basic things like bodily functions were all Moira’s to control.   
  
“I don’t think so.”   
  
Angela jerked her head up, no longer able to hide her desperation. “Please,” She rasped. “Please, I can’t hold it!”   
  
Hearing her beg was just one of many intoxicating elements in their little game. Moira enjoyed it just as much as she enjoyed the vulnerability. She enjoyed it just as much as she enjoyed having complete control. She would have let Angela go on begging if she didn’t believe those words were entirely true.   
  
She closed the distance between the two of them, crossing the lab to crowd Angela and corner her against the counter. Moira used her height to its full advantage, towering over her lover. She nuzzled quite tenderly into Angela’s soft blonde hair and slotted her knee between Angela’s legs. They fit together like puzzle pieces.   
  
“Can’t hold it?” Moira repeated with dark fascination, as though she couldn’t believe this turn of events.   
  
“Moira, _please_.”   
  
Angela reached out for her, grabbed at the lapels of her white lab coat and fisted them. Her breathing had gone shallow, chest rising and falling with each short breath. This only served to egg Moira on. She shifted, grinding her thigh up against the crotch of Angela’s pants. Just this simple movement alone earned a frustrated whimper.   
  
“Then don’t,” Moira whispered to her.   
  
In that moment, Angela didn’t have a choice. Whether she actually wanted to piss herself in the middle of the lab or not, she genuinely couldn’t stop once Moira started nudging at the place between her legs that she was desperate to release from. She cried out gently. A tremble rippled through her body. She made no attempt to stifle her voice or hide the humiliating pleasure that came with all this relief.  
  
It was funny. Moira didn’t even feel the wetness at first, just the searing heat of it running down her thigh. It just kept coming, a steady stream of it darkening both their pairs of pants as it poured down their legs. Angela was so full, she was going to leave a pool on the floor.  
  
“There you go,” Moira encouraged her.   
  
She stooped low, ducking to get access to Angela’s face. She was trying to hide it by angling it towards the ground. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks were vibrant red. She was so adorable when she was embarrassed. Poor thing.   
  
Moira kissed her cheek, and then her eyebrow. She nuzzled into Angela’s hairline. “That’s my good girl.”   
  
Angela caught her breath, slowly but surely. Her grip on Moira’s coat remained iron clad until she was good and empty.   
  
“Did you come during that?” Moira asked her.   
  
Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn’t. It was always best to ask. Angela was completely silent, but Moira had her ways of telling what the answer was. The way her throat clicked when she swallowed, the way she refused to look up, the fact that the red blush of her face was deeper now than before.   
  
Moira made a pleased noise. “Good.”   
  
She stepped back, disengaging. As soon as their limbs were untangled, Angela knocked her knees together to try and hide the mess as if it wasn’t completely obvious. As if Moira didn’t have the evidence soaking her own knee down to her shin. As if she hadn’t felt it happening, thigh pressed tight to the source. Angela even clasped her hands in front of her, further attempting to cover what she’d done.   
  
“Go on, go get cleaned up.” Moira said, finally granting Angela the permission she had desperately wanted earlier now that it was too late.   
  
Moira would stay and take care of the mess. It was the least she could do after all she’d put Angela through.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm taking femslash february suggestions year round  
> send requests or prompts ➝ [here](https://curiouscat.me/deathtouch)  
> femfeb '19 masterpost ➝ [here](http://deathtouch.tumblr.com/post/182484342728)  
> follow me on twitter ➝ [here](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)  
> thanks for reading ✩°｡⋆


End file.
